Bvastoon and the Jack's Request or How the Labyrin
by Silly Little Sparrow
Summary: A little goblin's quest to find a dream...but he finds a bit more along the way.


**"Bvastoon and the Jack's Request" or "How the Labyrinth was Dreamed"**

In the realm of Perchance, which cannot be found on any map (you can search for it in the falling of a snowflake, or the sound of water, or perhaps in the smile of a mischievous little boy, but I doubt you'll ever find it), there lived a young goblin, who had just been summoned by his master, the Jack of Perchance.

He pulled himself up the stone ledge, and then jumped lightly to the windowsill to peer cautiously into the Oval Chamber of Dreams.

"Good, Bvastoon, you made it." The speaker was a tall man, face hidden in the dark cowls of his robes. "I need you to find something for me."

Bvastoon hopped down inside the room, and crooned, "Of lost things there be many. But Bvastoon can find you any" (Bvastoon could only ever speak in rhymes). He slunk forward, his large eyes fixed unblinkingly on the robed man.

"Then find me a dream."

"A dream he wants, he'll find a dream. Take care, though--they're not what they seem." Bvastoon tilted his head. "What kind to search for, what kind to seek? Find your wish, wish your dream, and speak."

"I want a strong dream, one that cannot wither, but flourishes and grows with time... a dream of a labyrinth, a place to find oneself and hide within." The hooded man extended his hand, offering a single pouch of seeds. "For your journey. Go then, and seek. But return to me soon with the dream."

The goblin plucked up the pouch, and scampered back out through the window. He climbed nimbly down the castle wall, clutching the pouch between his sharp teeth.

Bvastoon needed nothing on the journey save his little pouch of seeds, which he already had, so the little goblin made his way up to the castle owlery, where he quickly saddled a white and brown bird, and took off. The owl, Bvastoon soon found out, was prey to the strange habit of clacking her beak periodically as she flew, and so Bvastoon got little sleep on the long ride north (or perhaps it was south, or up, or else sideways; Bvastoon could never remember) to the Sometimes Forest, the only place in Perchance where one might find a dream.

There is something strange about the Sometimes Forest: travelers may only spend three nights there, or else they are lost forever. You see, the Sometimes Realm is only sometimes a forest. Other days it turns into a great ocean, or a little house; it may even decide to become an invisible flower. In any case, no one wanted to take the risk of staying for too long, and so it became an unwritten law to stay only one day, maybe two, or three days at the most.

Once there, the goblin gave his ride a pat, and sent her off to hunt. Then, after checking to make sure the little pouch of seeds hadn't fallen off, he slipped in between giant redwoods, grown mossy with the years.

Now goblins, especially Searchers (like Bvastoon), are very clever. But when very young (again, like Bvastoon), they tend to be easily led off, distracted by something that might glitter. _So why are they searchers_, you might ask, _when they are so unreliable?_ The answer is very simple: these goblins are extraordinarily limber; they can twist themselves through almost any nook and cranny. Their eyes can see far, and in dark places, and their noses can smell out substances that have no scent to people like you or me, such as water, or glass.

_But still_, you press, _why did the Jack send a young Searcher? Why not someone older, and less likely to botch an important mission?_ The reason is twofold: the Jack was quite fond of Bvastoon's father, Bvastian (who is now retired and living chiefly off of the honeywine in the Jack's cellars), and he very much wanted for Bvastoon to be as efficient a Searcher as his father. Secondly, Bvastoon loved shiny objects far more than even his most glitter-loving peers. And dreams do more than glitter--they _shimmer_, especially under the moon, so Bvastoon could spot one easily.

And so Bvastoon hunted for dreams, a strong one, that would flourish and grow, and never wither. On the first night, he caught a fine specimen, larger than the largest in the Jack's Oval Chamber of Dreams. But the dream was black and hungry and cold as ice; the Jack could never use that for his labyrinth. Disappointed, but not out of hope, Bvastoon crept deeper into the Sometimes Forest.

The next day, he managed to find a dream more silver and green and purple than the most vibrant in the Jack's Oval Chamber of Dreams. This dream, however, was far too small to give shape to so large a wish as the Jack's labyrinth. But it was so lovely that Bvastoon tucked it into his pocket near the pouch of seeds for safekeeping. _For one more night, for one more day, I'll look here, then be on my way, _Bvastoon told himself, more than a little discouraged.

The third night, Bvastoon found nothing. Dejected and wondering what he would tell the Jack, he whistled for his owl to take him home. When the brown and white owl came, she was very excited to see the goblin, and hooted and shook her head. Poor Bvastoon was so miserable that he could hardly walk, but he petted the bird's bright orange beak and spoke kindly to her before climbing up onto her back.

Owls are often thought of as very wise, but in reality, they are quite foolish. Bvastoon's owl was no exception. She soon became so concentrated on clacking her beak that she began tilting her wings and flying them in circles. Bvastoon tried to yell up to her, but the strong wind made it impossible for her to hear. The more the owl forgot to fly straight, the more she tilted, until finally, Bvastoon was hanging precariously onto a single feather. The owl, finally realizing what was happening, righted herself immediately, but with that abrupt movement, Bvastoon went tumbling downwards into the air.

The poor owl flew for many hours, searching for her rider, but she had lost him, and so she found a hollow tree to curl up in and sleep.

Bvastoon fell through stars and clouds and rain drops, until he finally landed on some soft moss by a riverbank, where he immediately passed out from weariness. Three goblin maids who were practicing with swords found him, and, taking pity on the bedraggled goblin, they brought him back to their village.

When Bvastoon awoke, he found himself in comfy and warm feather bed. Bread and honey and milk were brought to him, and he thanked his host graciously for their hospitality. As he regained his old strength, Bvastoon began thinking about returning home. _But I can't return without a dream, for the Jack's less patient than he seems. _And so Bvastoon decided to remain in the village until he could bring back a dream.

In the meantime, Bvastoon began helping various villagers at their trade.

First he tried to learn pottery. The goblin sat at the wheel for a day and a night, forming a small pot from clay. But his mind kept turning to the Jack's request, and so the pot came out deformed and broken, and Bvastoon left to try his hand at weaving. For a day and a night, he sat at the loom, but his mind kept turning the the Jack's request, and so the cloth came out with the wrong colors and uneven. So Bvastoon set out to the blacksmith to make a horse shoe. For a day and a night, Bvastoon melted and hammered the metal, but his mind kept turning to the Jack's request, and so the horseshoe came out crooked and ugly.

Bvastoon was so crestfallen that he went out and hid by the river where he had fallen, and sat, listening to the passing of the water. It wasn't long before the brown and white owl wandered near the river, wanting a drink of water. Bvastoon heard her, and he came out. The two were overjoyed at their reunion (for the goblin bore his owl no hard will) that Bvastoon forgot his distress. He told his companion of his trouble at pottery and weaving and blacksmithery, and she listened to it all intently. And then, even though she was only a foolish owl, she told the goblin something very wise. "A task worth setting is a task worth finishing. Go back to the potter, and try again until you have conquered that task; then you will be able to complete your mission from the Jack."

So Bvastoon went again to the potter. He sat at the wheel, and thought only of his pot. The dream Bvastoon had found began to stir in his pocket, but he was so focused on his task that Bvastoon couldn't feel it; and when he was done, the pot was gracefully curved and sturdily built. Bvastoon brought it to the owl, and she said, "A task worth setting is a task worth finishing. Go back to the weaver, and try again until you have conquered that tasks; then you will be able to complete your mission from the Jack."

Bvastoon sat at the loom and began to weave, thinking only of his cloth. The dream that was waiting in his pocket began to grow, but Bvastoon was so focused on his task that he couldn't feel it. The cloth he wove was soft as silk and colored like a rainbow. The goblin brought it to the owl, and she said, "A task worth setting is a task worth finishing. Go back to the blacksmith, and try again until you have conquered that task; then you will be able to complete your mission from the Jack."

So Bvastoon went to the blacksmith, and melted and hammered until his back and arms were sore, but all he thought of was his horse shoe. The dream growing in his pocket began to glimmer, but Bvastoon was so focused on his task that he couldn't feel it. The finished horseshoe was perfectly balanced and strong, and when Bvastoon brought it to the owl, she said, "A task worth setting is a task worth finishing. Look inside your pocket."

Bewildered, Bvastoon did, and he let the dream out. It was huge and more bright than before, and it began to fly swiftly up and out, but Bvastoon thought quickly and threw the horseshoe he had made. It hooked the dream, and the goblin snatched them up carefully, and put the horseshoe and the dream into his pot, along with the seeds. Then he wrapped the pot up in the cloth he had made, so that the dream couldn't escape.

After thanking the villagers for their kindness, Bvastoon climbed onto the brown and white owl's back, and they flew back to Perchance. The Jack was delighted to see them, for they had been gone a long time. When Bvastoon presented the cloth-wrapped pot, the Jack exclaimed at how soft the cloth was, how gracefully curved the pot, and how perfectly balanced the horseshoe. But when he saw the dream, the Jack's eyes lit.

"The colors are even more beautiful than the most vibrant dreams in my Oval Chamber! It is larger even than the largest in my Oval Chamber!" And the Jack was so pleased he insisted that Bvastoon be the one to plant the pot in his garden. Bvastoon did, and he and the owl lived happily for many years.

Over many years, the Labyrinth grew. It was gracefully curved and sturdy; it was perfectly balanced and strong; and it was colored like a rainbow.

And that is the story of how the great Labyrinth in Perchance was built.

**Thanks for reading! Please review!! **


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